


Whatever We Are

by goth_on_ham



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Angst, Internalized Homophobia, Kissing, M/M, Mutual Pining, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-29
Updated: 2017-04-05
Packaged: 2018-10-12 16:46:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10495239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goth_on_ham/pseuds/goth_on_ham
Summary: Jim and Oswald have been having sex. But they're not a couple. Not really. So it doesn't matter if Jim breaks it off, right? Set during s1.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is really self indulgent and I might write a part 2.
> 
> This is sort of inspired by some of the gay guys I know who will suck someone off but kissing is too much. (No disrespect to people who are just uncomfortable with kissing for other reasons but it is a bit ridiculous in some parts of the mlm community.)

Jim’s tongue ran over his perineum, leaving a wet trail of saliva behind. Oswald gasped, his legs twitching as they rested on the other man’s shoulders. Jim held them in place, and he kissed him once on the inside of each thigh to tell him that it was alright. Then, his tongue went back to licking and sucking at his balls, at the area around and above his hole. From time to time, he would bite lightly at his buttocks, and each time he did that he made Oswald gasp and whine impatiently. His cock was neglected and Oswald longed to touch it, but Jim had handcuffed him to the headboard. 

Oswald still couldn’t quite believe it.

Jim Gordon, the last good man in Gotham, had handcuffed him to a bed and was using his tongue for something other than berating him. 

It felt so good.

Oswald had long passed the point of being embarrassed about enjoying himself. He couldn’t pretend. Every lap of Jim’s tongue, every brush of his lips, made him groan in appreciation.

It was fortunate Jim lived alone, because Oswald was sure the noise he was making must be audible throughout the entire apartment. 

“Jim… Ah… Jim, please…” He kept saying the detective’s name over and over, until he felt like he was babbling. He didn’t know what exactly he was begging for Jim to do. Perhaps he was just begging for him to keep going. 

Jim finally turned his attention to his cock. It was somewhat modest in size, but then again, so was the rest of Oswald. It was in proportion. Jim didn’t seem to have any complaints about it when he wrapped his lips around its head and began to bob his head up and down the length of his shaft. Oswald moaned loudly, more loudly than he had been already, and it only took a matter of seconds for him to cum. 

—

“I’m so sorry,” Oswald said, again, his hands reaching out to help Jim straighten his tie. Then he thought better of it, and he let them fall back down by his sides. But that didn’t feel right either, so he clasped them in front of himself, wringing them anxiously. “If I hadn’t been handcuffed, I would have been able to assist you.”

“The handcuffs were your idea.” Jim reminded him, a little impatiently. His voice was even more gravelly than it usually was, and Oswald wondered if that had something to do with him. If he had hurt Jim’s throat by all the coughing and spluttering he had caused when he’d cum too quickly and caught Jim by surprise. He straightened his own tie, but Oswald thought he would have done a better job of it. Jim could do with a few new ties, and a few new suits. He wondered if he could ever persuade him to accept that as a gift from him. 

Oswald smiled apologetically and nodded his head. “I know. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. Really.” Jim put a hand on his Oswald’s shoulder and squeezed. He paused for several seconds, his expression unreadable, then he leaned in and pecked the other man briefly on the lips. 

Oswald’s eyes widened and a bright smile appeared on his face. He was about to say something when Jim looked away and rubbed the back of his neck with a loud sigh. “See you around, Oswald.”

—

“Jim… Oh, Jim… Jim…” 

The sound of Oswald moaning out his name swirled inside Jim’s head for the rest of the day. It followed him wherever he went, it followed him whatever he did. 

“I love you.”

Oswald hadn’t said that, not out loud, but he may as well have. 

Jim didn’t think he was just flattering himself. Oswald Cobblepot was in love with him.

He shouldn’t see him any more. It wasn’t fair on him. He didn’t know what he felt, but he did know that anything beyond just sex wouldn't work between them. Oswald was a criminal, he was a cop.

It was over between them.

Whatever ‘it’ was.

Whatever ‘it’ was, it made Jim want to keep seeing him. It made Jim’s heart race when he thought of kissing him. It made sucking him off, fucking him, holding him, feel natural. Kissing him was thrilling, but also uncomfortable, embarrassing. He knew that didn’t make sense.

He’d had his lips around Oswald’s cock before he’d kissed him on the lips, but it was kissing him that stuck in his mind as the more intimate act. 

Jim started as he felt his phone buzz in his pocket. He took it out and looked at the number. 

Oswald.

He ignored it.

He thought of kissing him again, and he ignored it.

—

Oswald couldn’t stop thinking about Jim. 

It hadn’t been part of his plan, to fall for a policeman, but life was full of surprises. 

He bit on his thumbnail anxiously, wondering if three text messages in one afternoon would be excessive. 

He gave up. He sent a third one anyway.

_My plans fell through tonight. If you are free, I’d very much like to see you again. Have a good day._

He paused. 

He read the text over again then started rewording it.

_I hope you are having a good day. If you are free, I’d very much like to see you again tonight._

He decided not to mention that his plans had fallen through, he didn’t want Jim to think that his plans were more important than seeing him. 

Oswald sent the message before he could start doubting himself all over again. 

Almost immediately, he got a response. He got a response as soon as his own text had finished sending. Perhaps Jim was responding to the previous two texts he had sent?

He opened it immediately.

_Sorry. I don’t think we should see each other anymore._

—

Jim knew that it was cowardly to break it to Oswald this way. But they hadn’t exactly been ‘dating’. Not really. 

It would never have lasted anyway. 

They lived in two very different worlds and Jim intended to keep those two worlds as separate as possible. He couldn’t start spending time with a criminal. 

Barbara had left but that didn’t mean he had to resort to _that._

He ran his hand over his face slowly. As soon as that thought had passed through his mind he felt guilty about it, but he still didn’t call Oswald, he didn’t text him, he didn’t find anyway to tell him that he retracted what he had said in the last message and that he’d actually really like to see him again. 

Even if that would have been the truth.

He told himself that it would be better this way.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set sometime during S2.

Voices swirled inside of Jim’s skull. They rattled off the sides, pounding and echoing and making him feel like he was going to throw up.

For a long time, words were incomprehensible, until he slowly began to recognise the familiar sound of Oswald’s voice.

“You could have killed him!” 

“Sorry, boss. But he was snooping around and you said if I saw any cops I was to whack ‘em. He’s lucky he’s not dead. Guess the guy’s tough.”

“Yes, I did say that, but I wasn’t talking about _Jim_ , idiot.” Oswald hissed, and Jim would have thanked him, if he could convince himself that he’d be able to say more than slurred mumbles. “Just go away. Leave the poor man in peace!”

“Don’t you want me to move him onto a bed or something? He’s patched up but he looks like he should really be lying down.”

“Ugh.” Jim could make out the slightly blurry figure of Oswald putting his hand to his face and rubbing it in exasperation. “ _Fine._ ”

Moments later, Jim felt himself be lifted up by thick arms and placed onto a decadently soft bed with silk sheets. 

Then, nothing. Just darkness.

—

Jim woke up some time later to the feeling of a cold hand on his forehead. When he opened his eyes, he saw that it belonged to Oswald. He flinched and quickly drew his hand away.

He had been sitting on the side of his bed, but upon seeing Jim regain consciousness, he stood up and moved a pace or two away from it. He cleared his throat and straightened his suit jacket. 

“My man gave you quite the knock. You have a fever too, although I imagine that’s a separate issue. You really should take better care of yourself, Detective.” Oswald’s eyes didn’t meet his, but every so often they would flicker up from the floor and nervously steal a brief look at him. 

“I appreciate the concern.” Jim grunted, his voice coming out hoarser than he expected. It was only when he spoke that he realised how dry his throat was.

“It wasn't for your sake. I just don’t much like the thought of having Bullock on a warpath against me.” Oswald replied snippily, but unconvincingly. 

Jim had heard him talk to the large man who had lifted him onto the bed (and presumably knocked him about too). He had heard the concern in his voice. 

“Sure. Thanks anyway.” 

“I’ll let you rest then. The doctor said you should stay in bed until your fever breaks.” 

Jim was wondering why Oswald hadn’t just dropped off at a hospital, when he saw him turn to leave. He reached out and caught his hand. He heard Oswald’s breath quiver, but couldn’t see his face.

“Oswald… About everything that happened between us-“

“Jim. Really.” Oswald smiled at him humourlessly, his eyes shining brightly, “That’s all in the past. Let’s say no more about it.”

—

It was all in the past? 

Jim wasn’t so sure about that.

He had told himself the same thing, but seeing Oswald again, feeling his hand on his forehead, hearing the concern the crime boss still had for him… It felt very much like whatever they had had, whatever they still had, was still a part of his present, his future.

When he recovered from his fever, the first thing Jim did was sit up in his bed and walk over to Oswald the moment he came into his room. He kept walking up to him until the smaller man was backed up against one of the walls. 

“J-Jim?”

“I love you.”

Oswald’s eyes grew wide, he opened his mouth to speak, maybe to protest, but Jim wouldn’t let him. 

“I was a coward. I ignored who and what I wanted because I was afraid.”

“Jim-“

“I’m not afraid anymore, Oswald. I want to make up for it. I should never have abandoned you.”

“Jim.” 

The third time, Oswald said his name more softly. Like it was the most important word in the world. His cheeks had gone pink but he still trembled with uncertainty. Jim remembered how he had looked when handcuffed to his bed, naked and moaning and covered in sweat. He could still feel him, feel his usually cool skin heat up underneath his hands and his tongue. 

He wanted to feel him again.

“Let me make it up to you.” He knew he was coming on a bit strong, but he felt like there was no other way. He needed Oswald. He couldn’t leave this house knowing that it was over between them. He would fix all the wrong he had done to him, and maybe he would even be able to fix some of the wrongs Oswald would do in the future. He was still a criminal, still a bad man, but he couldn’t deny how deeply he felt for him anymore.

“How will you make it up to me?” Oswald said quietly, his hands moving up timidly to rest on Jim’s chest. Then they slid downwards, to rest at his waist. Jim smiled knowingly. He felt relieved at the acceptance, at the chance.

“Let me start by kissing you.” He said, and as soon as Oswald had nodded his head in agreement, he planted a soft, lovingkiss onto his waiting lips. 


End file.
